disclaimer: i own nothing.
a/n: i don't know what this is. i just want to write about them 'kay?
. . .
"Reading romance nowadays bore me."
Draco tilted his head to face her with an eyebrow raised.
She didn't need to look at him to know if he was interested or not. It didn't really matter. He knew that sometimes she would talk out loud and while it wasn't necessary for him to listen to her, she appreciates it when he does.
Instead, she continued on babbling about her changing preferences on books.
"It's not like I've loved romance before but I could enjoy them. Now, it just seems so dull and different and well, impossible. The descriptions are just too flowery, fancy and maybe I'm being too negative but love—" she paused and the deepening creases between her eyebrows loosened, "or maybe it's just not the same as how I had felt it."
He snorted and the noise caused her to shift her curious gaze to him.
"It's called a book, Granger. It's filled with the 'impossible'."
She blinked, the thought of him not commenting on her last sentence had been odd. Usually he would boast what she had said to anybody in the vicinity, even if there's only her around. "I know but it's strange that I can't like it anymore."
"Either it's you growing up or that you have changed. Maybe both." Draco stated simply then turning back to his newspaper.
Hermione gave him a stare.
"Besides, it's alright for you not to like a book. You don't have an obligation to like everything you read."
She sighed and decided to close the book. It had been a shame because everyone had said that it was a great piece, unlike others ever written which was probably an exaggeration, but it wasn't one she had been able to relish in.
Hermione had stood up from the couch and was at the door when he suddenly questioned her.
"Did you really feel love?"
Perhaps it was the tinge of reluctance in his voice or how small it had sounded, like of a child with red cheeks from embarrassment, grumbling and scowling from a show of weakness that had caused her to giggle.
(An image of a young, shy Draco would be priceless.)
"Oh, you're wrong about that Mr. Malfoy."
She could feel him tense behind her.
"It's not 'did'. I still do."
And she left, laughing because she could hear his frustrated grumbles regarding her teasing.
Though, Hermione didn't know that her words had made him smile after a string of his half-hearted, murmured complaints.
. . .
—end—